Resident Evil: Uncontained Outbreak
by SniperOcelot88
Summary: What starts out as Jack's normal, everyday Monday filled with monotony and weird dreams, turns into a horrific zombie filled adventure!
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: The premise of this story is not of my creation, but was created for the Resident Evil series. The outbreak of the T-virus and the STARS team is taken directly from the series pretty much everything else that happens here is my own doing, and if anything else comes up that is from the series, I'll add it to the two aforementioned things. Enjoy.

Chapter One

"Come on...I've almost got ya." He was starring down the 8x scope mounted on top of his SR-25 sniper rifle. He was the last survivor of his battered and nearly beaten SEAL team. There were three remaining terrorists responsible for the deaths on his team. He was starring at one of them, the other two were right beside him. The terrorist's figured filled his scope and a shot rang out. The terrorist fell to the ground and his sights immediately went to another. Again the figure filled his scope and another shot rang out. The third and final terrorist remained. He carefully placed his cross-hairs over the terrorist, directly over his head. A shot rang out and the terrorist spun around and fell to the ground.

"I do love this game." He said into the mouth piece of his headset, and deciding to give up SOCOM II for the night "And that's all for me." He looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly midnight. "Oh crap...I've got school tomorrow." He smacked his forehead as he remembered he hadn't't done his math homework. "Oh well, I've done every other one, so I doubt missing one will be too bad." With that Jack went to sleep. As he fell off the edge of consciousness he thought forward to the following day and how fun-filled and exciting it wouldn't be...

The following morning he woke with a start as his alarm clock droned in that generic, ever-annoying monotonousness. He distinctly remembered a dream he had put before he could nail it down with words he felt it slipping from his mind. He quickly put it out of his head as he got out of bed and got ready for school. As he stood in the shower he slipped into a state of quasi-consciousness and the night's dream crept back into his mind. He suddenly jumped and came back to full consciousness. He got out of the shower and realized he was running late. He got dressed, brushed his teeth as fast as he could, ran downstairs, grabbed his books and ran out the door only to see the bus passing him by.

"Great...just great..." He said to himself "Thank God today's Friday...it _is_ Friday...right?"

He was in a state of mind where time had turned into a giant bowl of oat-meal and was one big mush. One day slipped into the next and he never felt the change. However, he had no time to reflect on this now. He began running down his street knowing if he ran as fast as he could he would beat the bus to another bus stop. Despite his running, he arrived at the bus stop just in time to see the bus turning to corner at the end of the street and slipping away.

"Oh now this is just dandy! GREAT way to start a day off! Again, thank God its Friday." At that he felt in his pocket for his cell phone which he then realized he had left home. "Incredible! AMAZING!" He then took off as fast as possible back to his house to which he arrived just as his dad was pulling out of the drive way.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!!" He screamed as loud as he could. His father turned around and saw him running down the street and realized what had happened.

"Need a ride?" His dad asked in a sarcastic way.

"Yeah, that would be good."

"Hop in." He opened the door to his father's hybrid gas-electric car that was provided for his dad by the company for which his dad worked: the Umbrella Corporation. It was a ploy to 'help the environment' and help themselves. By giving employees environmentally friendly cars they 'helped the environment' and looked good, which meant public approval – which was somewhat waning for the mega-conglomerate. He pondered this as he looked out his window at the bleak scenery that passed him by. He arrived at school, jumped out of the car and said good-bye to his dad.

"See you later, Jack"

"Later."

He half-ran into school as he looked at his watched and realized he was 15 minutes late to first period. He made his way to class and upon entering

"Mr. Randall"

"Shoot" Jack said to himself

"Mr. Randall, why are you late?"

"I missed the bus."

"Oh really, and that makes being late okay?" his teacher was pressing the point for some reason.

"Not really, but this _is_ the first time I've been late all year" Jack retorted trying to remain calm despite his not being in the mood for this.

"So, if somebody is murdered and their murderer says it was the first time they murdered somebody, does that make them innocent?"

"What?!" Jack said completely flabbergasted as to how his teacher brought the thing to an extreme so ridiculous as that.

"You heard me."

"Murder is murder no matter how you look at it...but I don't really think being 15 minutes late to a class is equatable to murder..." Jack said slowly and somewhat unsurely – afraid he was missing some hidden point.

"Well, in those fifteen minutes you murdered your chances of learning the material."

"Well, you just did the same to the last 5 minutes, so I think it would be best if we just moved on, this wont happen again." Jack tried to resolve this dilemma. "I promise."

"Very well, see me after class." His teacher announced indignantly.

Jack took his seat, relieved that his teacher stopped her uncharacteristic stupidity. He spent the rest of the period stewing in thought. He was trying to sort out his teacher oddness, trying to pay some semblance of attention to the lesson, trying to stay awake, and most of all, trying to recollect his dream.

The period drifted away and Jack's mind wandered further away from reality than it was before. He tried to focus on his dream but simply couldn't. He remembered it but couldn't recall it. Then suddenly the monotone bell sprang him back into reality.

"Wow...I need a nap..." Jack said quietly to himself

"You just had one, man" Said a voice from behind him. Jack turned around to see his friend Paul.

"Oh, yeah, well...a bit longer of one on a bed would be better."

"Ha, yeah well nice stunt you pulled."

"Wha...?"

"Wow, you okay? You're not high on something are you?" Paul asked only half joking as he immediately noticed the odd nature of his friend.

"I feel like I could be, but I just didn't sleep last night. Then I missed the bus after chasing it around my neighborhood for a while."

"Damn man, that's a great way to start off a week."

"Woah woah..._START _a week?!?! Isn't today...Friday?!" Jack was now close to hyperventilating.

"Dude, its Monday."


	2. Prelude to Disaster

--Picks up directly from where Chapter 1 left off--

Still on the verge of hyperventilating Jack was able to mutter but two syllables: "You sure?!?!?"

"Well, unless my watch, my calendar, that calendar over there, my agenda, and..." Looking at Jack's watch "Even your own watch are all wrong: yes, today _is_ Monday. Sorry...I guess?"

After struggling somewhat to pull himself together and regain some semblance of composure, Jack was actually able to speak. "Okay...well...you ever have one of those weeks where it feels so much like it's actually a day it's not? Like today being Friday instead of Monday?"

"Yeah...all the time..." Paul said only sort of agreeing. It was true, Paul had _sometimes_ felt like this, but always just attributed it to lack of sleep...or falling asleep in front of his computer and waking up at 3:00 in the morning and having to finish all his homework. However, now it seems as though Jack was subconsciously eluding to something else. "Woah, we got to get going, we're gonna be late!"

"Right, lets go." Jack said, feebly trying to get himself back to a normal state. He knew he hadn't slept hardly at all last night, but he had never felt this bizarre after getting a bad night's sleep.

"Mr. Randall..." Jack heard the ominous voice behind him as he was about to pass over the threshold of the door. "Forgetting something?"

"Oh boy...you get going, I'll catch up later." Jack breathed to Paul.

"Okay, good luck I guess." Paul said as he left the room.

"Well?" Came the simple yet venomous question from his teacher.

"Well...what?" Jack asked still befuddled at this whole situation.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I think I already explained myself and with a legitimate reason too." Jack responded, politely but somewhat matter-of-factly.

"I see."

"I know you're the one who's supposed to be interrogating me here, but I have a question for you." Jack said after a momentary silence that lasted an eternity.

"Go ahead."

"Why did you chose today and me to make an example of? I mean, people come in late all the time and you don't seem to mind, so why me?"

"I felt it was the right time to make an example of somebody, and you happened to be at the right place at the right time." His teacher responded. And then added "For me at least."

"Okay..." Jack said trying to process this. "So, can I go now?" Jack asked as the bell rang.

"Sure." Said his teacher as she picked up her things and started heading for the door.

"Can I have a pass...?" Jack asked confused, again, as his teacher exited the classroom. "I guess not..." Jack picked up his backpack and started heading out of the classroom. Once he got outside the room he looked up and down the empty corridor. It was eerily empty. Then suddenly a small, paranoid voice came from behind him.

"Your right."

"What?" Asked Jack as he turned around to see Chester, the school weirdo. "Oh, hey Chester. What was that?"

"Your right." Chester said, getting excited, looking like a giddy little mouse. As Jack looked at him he noticed that Chester looked like a more humane Gollum. The bulging eyes, crumbled frame, pallor, voice, just less extreme and paranoid. Darting eyes, twitching head, seeming as if surveying ever crack and crevice for 'they' or 'it' might be lurking inside of it. "About the date."

"What? About today being Friday? How is that possible?" Jack asked feeling very much like he was about to return to his state of paranoia, but also suspecting it was Chester being a little bit crazy.

"They changed it, again. And it changed us...again." Chester said as he became more excited and slightly more paranoid, as impossible as that seemed to Jack. "Except me, it doesn't work on me. But they don't know that yet. Heheh."

"Right..." Jack said now firmly believing that Chester was very much crazy. He was about to venture an inquiry at who 'they' were but stopped himself and reminded himself of something. "I...have to go now...I'm already late to class, and so are you, actually."

"That's not important to me anymore..." Chester replied somewhat mournfully and contemplative. "Not since - - " He was cut off by the P.A. system coming on.

"Will Chester McNally please come down to the main office. Will Chester McNally please come down to the main office." The voice was chilling cold and it showed on Chester. He visibly left the realm of paranoia and was delved deeply into fear.

"Oh no...this is it." Chester said frightened and somewhat resignedly. "I have to go now..."

"Wait- - " Jack started.

"No, it's okay. It's time." Chester cut him off, seeming like he knew something. Chester walked off down the hall, his small frame disappearing down the stair well. Before he was totally out of sight Jack saw him turn back and say something. However, he was too far away to either hear what Chester had said or to see what he said.

"What did you say??" Jack asked, but before he could finish Chester had disappeared down the stairs. "Wow...I need to get out of here, this day is just way too fucked up for me..." Jack said to himself as he turned and started down the hall to his next class.

When he got to his classroom he was already 10 minutes late, but his teacher was nice about it – a welcome change from his other teacher – and didn't really even notice.

"Wow, I needed that." Jack chuckled to himself as he took his seat. He went through the normal motions of pretending to pay attention in class and was now trying to sort out even more stuff than before. He was still trying to figure out what his dream was about, why his teacher was acting so peculiar and then what was going on with Chester. Chester was odd to begin with, and everybody knew that, but he normally just kept to himself. Today was the first day in about seven years that Chester had actually said something to him, and as far as he knew, to anybody at all. And then there was the matter of what he said. The echoes of Chester's words were ringing in Jack's ears. He was going back and forth trying to figure out who 'they' were and what 'it' was. He was trying to digest almost everything that Chester had said, and attempt to make some sense out of it. But by the end of the period he was still clueless. The monotone bell was becoming the sweet sound of momentary freedom from this mental hell which he was being subjected to.

"Military History next, awesome. Maybe I'll stop thinking about all this for at least 40 minutes..." This was of course to no avail as Jack soon remembered that his teacher wasn't in school and the substitute just gave them a free period. This of course meant more time for Jack to mull everything over. He kept going back to what Chester had said 'they' 'it' 'it's time' and what did he say when he was going down the stairs. Jack was at his wits end when the P.A. clicked on again.

"Will Jack Randall please come down the main office? Will Jack Randall please come down to the main office?" The P.A. clicked off and Jack was over-come with fear. Whatever Chester had seen coming had visibly scared him, and Jack was just called down to the same place, in the same way, by the same voice.

"I guess I should go down then." Jack said to the substitute.

"Umm, okay, sure." The substitute said looking up from their newspaper. "Go ahead."

With that Jack started down to the main office. He was unsure of what awaited, and he did not want to know. As he went down the stairs, he realized that they were the same stairs the Chester had gone down, and that he was on the same exact path as Chester had taken. This increased his level of fear. He turned the corner to see himself face to face with the office. As he stood looking at the door, he noticed a dark aura surrounding it. He blinked and shook his head and it vanished and he realized it was his mind playing tricks on him.

Jack reached out for the handle and found it so cold it felt iced over. He turned it slowly and could feel the gears turning and the bolt coming out of the door jam and receding into the door. He pulled the heavy wooden door open and as he did so felt his heart jump into his mouth. He looked down at the ground as he walked in. He didn't want to see whatever it was that was waiting for him.

"Jack!!" The familiar voice of his dad came ringing into his ears. His dad ran over to him and embraced him. "Thank God your alright."

"Yeah, I'm okay..." Jack said, trying to calm his dad down a little. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No time to explain now." Then turning to the secretary "Excuse me, I'm Jack's father and I need to take him out of school right away." This seemed like a God-send to Jack, even though he began wondering why his dad was doing this.

"Reason for early dismissal?" the secretary asked in a routine, policy-forced way.

"Family engagement." Jack's dad, John, answered.

"Generic enough." The secretary answered with a chuckle. "Just print the student's name here, and sign here, then put the date and time here and here" the secretary said pointing out four boxes in a chart on a clip-board on the desk.

"Okay, thank you." John said to the secretary after filling out the required information. Then to Jack "Okay, let's get out of here."

"Okay." Jack said as they exited the office. Then once they were outside the school "Dad, what's this about?"

"I can't explain right now, we have to get out of here." John answered in a nervous, rushed way, he then added, paranoid, "Quickly."

When Jack didn't see his dad's usual hybrid-electric car parked in the parking lot he asked "Where's your car?"

"Not here." Then motioning to the exact opposite kind of car on the gas-conservation spectrum. "Here's the new ride."

"Oh my God, a Hummer??" Jack said confused. Then jokingly "That's not very environmentally sound, Dad."

"I know, and right now that's the least of our worries. We just need to get out of here, and we may need to go over some rough terrain on the way."

"Dad, you _have to _tell me what this is all about." Jack demanded.

"Get in, I'll tell you on the way."

"To where??' Jack asked as he climbed up into the cab of the giant vehicle. He was then very, very scared upon looking in the back. The roof was extended all the way back, like the military Hum-vee. "Dad...what are those for...?" Jack asked motioning to a militia's armament in guns and ammo cans in the back of the truck.

"Protection." John answered coolly, almost sarcastically.

"From what??!?!? The 101st Airborne Division?!?!?!?" Jack asked completely flabbergasted.

"Your not far off." John answered in the same manner as his last response leaving his son totally dumbfounded.

"What that hell is going on???" Jack asked for the third time.

"Well...you see, the thing is, I haven't been completely honest with you about what I've been doing – at Umbrella." He explained as he pulled the truck out onto the main road. "The fact is, I _couldn't_ be, because if word got out about what my colleagues and I were doing, Umbrella would be ruined, and so would I, all my colleagues, and your future. But I think I may have endangered far more than just that..."

"Okay...so what _were_ you doing?" Jack asked thirsting for explanation.

"I was doing research, development and experimentation with a highly unstable, highly volatile genetically mutated virus." John went on as he made his way onto the highway which was completely vacant. "I was working on the T-virus."


	3. Escape From Raccoon City

"You were working with the...what??" Jack asked more confused than before he had learned all of this.

"The T-virus." John repeated. "It's, I'm not sure how to put this, but in its simplest form it's a biological agent that can bring dead tissue back to life." John was grabbing for words now, as he was at a loss for them, and looking over at his son he saw the state was a mutual one.

"And this...T-virus does this...how, exactly?" Jack asked trying to clear several things up.

"It works kind of like jumper cables for a car. It delivers a shock to the dead tissue and revitalizes it." He was now accelerating the truck very rapidly. Jack could feel the gears changing underneath the massive hood of the vehicle. "Only thing, is that it doesn't revive the dead tissue to it's fully functioning state. Only the most basic of functions are restored...namely..."

"What? Namely what??" Jack asked impatient for an answer.

"Oh no...they found us." John said looking in the rear-view mirror. "Jack, I need you to drive. Just drive as fast as you can, straight down the highway. If I tell you turn to get off at a certain exit, do NOT miss the turn. You got me?"

"Uhh, yeah, okay." Jack nervously switched positions with his dad as he took control of the vehicle. He had the, seemingly, easy job of barreling down the highway at 70 plus MPH. Except he heard his dad going into the back of the truck and opening ammo cans. "Dad, what's going on?!?"

"They're after us, and we can't let them catch us." John said as he slipped a 15 round magazine into a Beretta M9. He cocked the gun and slid it into a should holster. He then took two more magazines out of an ammo can and slid them into the magazine pouches on the holster. He then wrapped it around itself and tapped Jack on the shoulder with it and gave him a brief set of instructions as to how to wear it. "Here, you're going to need this. Put it around you shoulder and then buckle the two straps together across your chest. Make sure it fits so it won't fall off but isn't too tight where it restricts your movement."

"Okay..." Jack slid the holster around his shoulders and found it actually fit him quite well, even though the notion of having a gun on his person was rather unnerving, he felt a bit more secure about knowing 'they' were coming after them. He then remembered that he had never used a gun before. "Dad, what good is it going to do giving me a gun I've never even - - "

"You'll be fine, trust me." John said seeming as if he knew something. As Jack had been putting on the holster John had been preparing several guns for himself. He took an FN M249 SAW light machine gun off the wall of the truck and a plastic box containing 200 belt-fed rounds of ammunition. He pushed it up from underneath the receiver and clipped it into place, he then flipped up the top of the receiver and laid the belt across the opening, closed the receiver and pulled back the bolt, cocking the gun. He did this with great speed and this further astonished Jack because he had never seen his father using guns before. His father also took an AN-94 off of the wall and upon opening a different ammo can took out a 100 round drum magazine and slipped it into the magazine port on the gun. He unfurled a three-point sling and placed the sling behind his neck and under his arm then moved the gun so it behind his right thigh. The two ammo cans from whence he had taken the magazines he now pulled forwards towards the front of the car and placed them next to Jack and then pulled a third one up as well.

"When I need you to, I need you reach into one of these and pull out a magazine and hand it up to me." John said half shouting. Then motioning towards each of the boxes "This one's M249, this one's AN-94, this third one, is grenades. When I tell you, reach into it, pull one out, flip off the safety lever, pull the pin out and drop it out the window."

Before Jack could respond, he reached up and slid back the moon-roof cover, which was comprised of metal slats, which, when pulled back, slid upwards forming a shield behind which John positioned himself. He pulled the legs of the M249's bipod down and placed them on the opposite side of the metal barrier than he was on. He flipped a lever on the gun from 'safe' to 'auto' and then positioned himself so he was aiming down the highway.

"Dad, I know this may not be the best of times to ask this." Jack started "But, who the hell is trying to kill us??"

"Umbrella Corporation." John answered somewhat shortly.

"And why might they be trying to kill us?" Jack asked as he tried to level with the fact that somebody wanted him dead.

"Because of what I know, who I know, and the threat we pose to them."

"Oh...okay." Jack responded in a thunderstruck, almost sarcastic way.

Then Jack heard it. The thunderous roar of engines behind them. He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw them. Following them at a very high rate of speed were what looked like Warthogs from Halo. They were in fact Desert Patrol Vehicles, made and outfitted by the Umbrella Corporation. They had a .50 caliber main heavy machine gun, an M-60 light machine gun, and an MK19 40mm grenade launcher. Jack became very, very scared. There were 15 of these vehicles following them, and then them, one very lonely, outnumbered, very much outgunned them.

"Here they come!!" John screamed at Jack. "I know things are going to be getting a bit hairy, but look for exit 72! That's where we have to get off!"

Jack was a bit too petrified to respond. He kept looking in the mirrors, seeing all those guns, knowing they were pointed straight at him. Just waiting for the chance to unleash their deadly payloads into him. He started decelerating.

"KEEP MOVING!! DO NOT SLOW THIS CAR DOWN!" John screamed at him, snapping him out of his momentary daze.

"Right!" Jack called up to his dad.

"Okay, grenade! Two of 'em!" John yelled down. The wind from the car's speed necessitated screaming in order to relay information. With this command Jack opened the ammo can, reached in and found an apple shaped, high explosive grenade in his hand. With one hand on the wheel, he flipped the safety latch off, then momentarily taking one hand off the wheel pulled the pin out of the grenade, rolled down the window and dropped it over the side. He quickly repeated the process for another grenade. Several seconds later he heard two explosions and upon looking in the rear-view mirror saw one of the DPV (Desert Patrol Vehicles) lying in a smoking ruin.

"HA! One down!" Jack said rejoicing. However, the only answer that Jack got was the barking of machine gun fire coming from above him. The roar of the gun was deafening and he could hear the spent shells raining down on the side of the truck. Jack began shrinking forward as if trying to fold himself up and stuff himself inside the steering wheel. There was a continuous roar of gun-fire from above and suddenly it stopped.

"MAGAZINE!" John screamed down. Jack reached into the ammo can and pulled out a magazine and handed it up to his dad. It was subsequently shoved into the gun, loaded, gun cocked and the firing re-commenced and the sound of gasoline igniting and exploding filled Jack's ears. 'Another one down...' Jack thought. Jack then noticed a green sign with white lettering. "Exit 54". 'Oh God, only at exit 54...we have to get to 72!' Then yelling up to his dad "DAD!! EXIT 54 COMING UP!!"

"Okay! Just keep driving!" Was the reply, supplemented with more and more gunfire. Then suddenly "INCOMING!!"

Jack instinctively looked in his side mirror saw the grenade's white smoke trail coming in on the left side, jerked the wheel slightly to the right and sped up as fast as was possible. His dad ducked down into the safety of the interior of the truck and the vociferous boom of the 40mm grenade exploding about 20 feet behind them threw them forward. Jack steadied the car on the road and accelerated to the truck's maximum speed. His dad grabbed several grenades pulled the pins on each, threw them both up out of the opening in the ceiling and heard them bounce their way down the back of the car and several seconds later explode. Another DPV lay in ruin: 13 left.

While inside the car, John put down the M249 and the AN-94 and took something off the wall: an M4A1 assault rifle with an M203 40mm grenade launcher attached to it. He opened yet another ammo can took out a magazine which was thrown into the gun, and then out of another can a shining 40mm grenade was taken out and put into the grenade launcher. The grenade ammo can was left by Jack, but the other two were moved back and two more cans were pulled forward.

"M4 here! M203 here!" John yelled motioning to the two cans.

"Right!" Jack said. It was at this point that Jack realized something: they were being shot at. He had only heard the machine gun blasts coming from above him and the shells bouncing off the car. But now he heard the pounding of bullets on the back of their truck. He looked out the right window and saw that the mirror that should have been there had been blown off and now shards of glass hung there limply, waiting to fall off. John had slid into the passenger's seat, he was looking exhausted.

"Let me take the wheel, get up there and give 'em hell!" John suddenly said. Jack was petrified. Him, go up and shoot?? He had never fired a gun in his life!

"But, I - - " Jack began to protest but was cut off by John "Trust me, it'll come back."

"What...?"

"Just get up there, we don't have much time." With this John slid into the driver's seat and jack crawled into the back of the truck. He picked up the M4 and, with an instinctive nature, released the magazine currently in the gun, picked up another shoved it in, cocked the gun and reloaded the grenade launcher. He thought to himself "How did I..." However, he couldn't finish the thought.

"Get moving!" John yelled at him. With that Jack poked his head out of the roof and heard bullets spraying towards him. He heard the whizzing of bullets going past his head, the plinking of bullets hitting the metal shield in front of him and the roar of the engines behind him. He stuck his head far enough out so that he could prop the gun on the shield and aim down at the cars pursuing him. He aimed at the middle of the nearest DPV and let out two three round bursts. The front tires of the vehicle crumbled and the rest of the car followed the exploded wheels into the ground. Jack then moved the sights over another vehicle. He could make out the driver and let out a burst of lead into him and saw him be pushed back by the bullet's force and subsequently saw the car swerve out of control and crash into the adjacent car. Jack then flipped up the M203 leaf-sight and aimed at the wreck. As the survivors of the crash were pulling themselves out of the ruins, Jack sent of a 40mm grenade and landed it exactly where he had aimed it. The two vehicles exploded in flame. 12 cars left.

Jack dropped down briefly, ejected the spent grenade shell and loaded another one. He jumped back up and sent off several bursts of fire in the general direction of the pursuing vehicles, not aiming at anything, just blindly shooting. He saw momentarily that three of the cars were in a diagonal line. He dropped down picked up two grenades, pulled the pins out of both jumped up and rolled them down the roof of the truck. He then took aim with the grenade launcher and lobbed a 40mm grenade right into the engine block of the first car. Shortly after the resulting explosion the two grenades exploded causing the other two cars to explode. 9 remaining cars.

Again, Jack dropped down and reloaded the M203 grenade launcher. He took out the magazine from the M4 and picked up a 200 round box magazine. He shoved this into the magazine slot of the M4 and as he was ascending to his fighting stance he flipped the selector switch from 'burst' to 'full'. He saw the nine remaining cars approaching rapidly. He lined up the weapon's sights directly at the first car and let out a 2 second burst of fire. The weapon had spewed out 60 bullets directly into the driver's and passenger's seats of the vehicle and had sprayed into the rest of the DPV. It began slowing down and eventually stopped as there was nobody left in it to operate it.

The eight remaining cars put themselves into a formation of some kind. Rather stupidly on their part – Jack thought – for they had made a V shape with the point facing Jack's car. He saw what they were going to do, and then realized that if he didn't act very quickly his life would come to a swift and speedy end. Each car had a grenade launcher on it. In their current V shape they could carpet bomb the entire highway making it impossible for Jack's car to evade the grenades. Jack had 170 rounds left in the magazine and a grenade in the grenade launcher. He heard the simultaneous firing of the eight grenade launchers behind him.

"HIT THE BREAKS!!" Jack screamed down to John. The brakes were applied very rapidly and sent the whole truck screeching to a halt. As the truck slid forward Jack began firing off the entire 170 rounds into the approaching cars. The first fell and swerved right smashing into the one next to it and created a domino effect with the cars on the right side of the V. The white trails of the grenades flew over Jack's head and they grenades landed about 20 yards ahead of him sending a fiery-hot wave of air towards him.

Four cars were still approaching and Jack, without releasing the trigger moved his sights over the driver's seat of the first. The recoil of the gun was digging into his shoulder but the first car swerved, also to the right. He heard the clicking of the bolt of the M4. It had jammed.

"Damnit!" Jack said as he knelt down into the car. "It's jammed!"

"Shit...how close are they??" Was John's response.

"70 yards, getting closer. There's four left."

"Here, use this." John said handing Jack an M-1014 military assault shotgun. It had a scope mounted on it, which Jack found odd. Sensing this:

"6 slugs and one in the chamber" John explained, this meaning the shotgun was not using shot, but instead bores – which are very large bullets with the same range as a normal shotgun shot.

"Gotcha." Jack said rising up, seeing the DPVs about 60 yards away. Jack looked down the scope and found the front left wheel of the first of the four cars. He fired off a slug and saw the tire completely tear apart. The car began swerving left, but the driver rashly pulled the car to the right causing it to fly off the side of the road. What Jack had planned didn't work. He hoped the front car would cause the next three to crash, but unfortunately they hadn't. They were now only 50 yards away. Jack aimed straight at the driver's head. He could clearly see driver's face and hesitated for a second. Until now he had not seen his victims and then remembering this man was trying to kill him and he let off a slug. He driver was thrown back with the immense force of the slug and swerved across the road to the left. Two cars.

This time he found the gas tank and let off a slug. He missed. The cars kept coming at him. They were spewing bullets back at him, but he was now not phased by this and just kept concentrating on his target. He pulled the trigger and felt the gun lurch backwards into his shoulder and saw the gas tank and let off a second slug. This one found its mark and the car exploded where it was and proceeded to slide forward. The final car bounced over a piece of debris and rolled over onto its roof. Several seconds later the soldiers were trying to get out. Jack descended into the cabin of the truck and found his dad handing him a sheathed katana.

"What do you want me to do with this????" Jack said completely astounded and dumbfounded.

"Fight them." Was the simple replay from his dad.

Jack took the sword and exited the vehicle. He had naught but the Hummer and his newly acquired sword between him and four highly trained, very well armed soldiers. He was now very doubtful that he was going to make it through this day.

He peeked around the back off the Hummer and saw the soldiers approaching in a line, looking like a SWAT team. He stepped out with his sword held out in front of him at chest level, one hand on the pommel and another towards the end of the blade. The first soldier fired a three round burst from his MP5 submachine gun at Jack. Jack had already instinctively calculated the angle of the gun and figured out where the bullets would land. He moved his sword in a sweeping motion across where the bullets were headed – which happened to be his head – and managed to deflect them. The soldiers stopped dead in their tracks. The first fired off the remaining 27 rounds in his magazine all to no avail. Jack managed to deflect every single one. As the soldier fell to the back of the line to reload, Jack sprinted forward deflecting the hail storm of bullets heading at him, all four soldiers had emptied their magazine at Jack, but Jack had not a scratch on him.

Jack kept running towards them in a state of rage and instinct and the soldiers began backing down. They had never seen somebody able to do this. This was out of their league, out of their imagination. Jack was within striking distance when the front soldier began drawing his pistol. Jack passed him by and sliced him across the stomach, sliced the next soldier upwards across the chest, then next diagonally down across his neck and the last across his back slicing his kidneys and tail bone. The soldiers fell and all was silent save the clicking of the pistol hitting the ground.

Jack stood motionless. He had not realized he was covered in the soldier's blood. He was in shock. He didn't know himself. It was impossible what he had just done. He had handled a sword only once or twice in his life and never with the intention of actually killing somebody. He slowly recollected what he had done. The precision with which he had killed. He couldn't bear to believe he had killed all those people. And yet as he turned around and saw the bloody corpses of the soldiers, he realized he had. "How...?" He thought, over and over again "How...?"


	4. Fiery memory

"Nicely done…" John said gravely from behind the truck, whose engine was still churning. "I told you it would all come back."

Jack stood there, thousands of thoughts were running through his mind, hundreds of question he wanted to ask but simply couldn't pin down any of them with words.

"How did I do all that?" He thought "Why did it 'all come back'? Where did it come back from?!" Finally he said "What am I?"

"Well, to be frank: you're not exactly human, at least not anymore." John began. "In our research, at Umbrella, we found that injecting the T-virus into living tissue provides the same affect as it has upon dead tissue: it brings it back to life. And since living tissue is already alive, it enhances it, makes it better, stronger, faster, increases reflexes, thinking speed and capacity--"

"So it makes the perfect soldier?" Jack interrupted still shaking from trauma.

"Yes."

"So, is that what I am?"

"No, your far beyond that." John said somewhat proudly. "Those results came from our initial experiments. You, however, are the result of years worth of research, refinements, genetic enhancements and training. You see, Jack, I created you, I trained you…I made you."

"You…made me?" Jack repeated completely bewildered.

"Yes, I'm not your real father--"

"What?!" Now Jack thought he was seriously going to lose it. This was too much to swallow in one day. He finds out that his father works with illegal genetic experimentation, that his father isn't really even his real father, that he himself was genetically altered and purposely infected with the T-virus, had somebody attempt to kill him, saw men be slaughtered at his hands, and watched himself do it mercilessly. He fell to his knees and started hyperventilating, John rushed over to him.

"Breath, deep breaths, come on." He laid his hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Jack screamed with a fiery gleam in his eyes. "I – I can't deal with this!"

With that Jack ran off down the road, away from John, away from the bodies of the soldiers, away from the city, away from everything.

"You won't make it without me! They'll catch you! You'll be wishing you hadn't done this when they do!!" John yelled after him, but he knew Jack wouldn't listen. He ran over to the truck, and picked up a radio receiver.

"This is John, he's loose. I need a containment crew." Then responding to an unheard question "Yes, he performed exquisitely. He's traveling away from the city, he won't get very far." With that John placed the receiver back on its cradle on the radio transmitter and got in the truck. He would wait there for the containment crew to catch up from the dispatch in Raccoon City.

Several hours later, and after many miles of running, Jack was still sprinting, still not tired. As hard as he tried to leave everything behind his thoughts kept catching up to him. He had so many question and nobody to answer them. Suddenly he stopped and turned around. He could still see the outskirts of the city lurking behind him. He knew that if there was a place where he could find answers it would be Raccoon City, that's the only place he would have any chance of getting to the bottom of everything.

It was dusk and light was fading. He knew he couldn't reach the city before nightfall, so he decided to spend the night here and then start out for the city in the morning – that is if he wasn't found during the night. There was a conveniently placed tree on the roadside which Jack climbed up and found a niche and within seconds of finding it was asleep. It would be one of the deepest sleeps he ever had, but also one of the most turbulent.

Jack soon found himself dreaming, but so vividly that he could not tell if it was real or not. He found himself in a stark white room, walls, floor ceiling, all white. Florescent lights shined above. There was no furniture in the room, and nothing interrupted the starkness of the room saved the slim outline of a door frame. Jack was huddled in a corner, he was wearing a generic white hospital robe. He could hear muffle voices coming from outside the room all around him.

"Where am I?" He thought. This all seemed so vividly familiar but so alien at the same time. He tried to get up to walk but his legs failed him and he fell back to the ground. Suddenly, three men walked in wearing white lab coats, surgeon's face-masks, glasses, white hair covers, and rubber surgeon gloves. The three entered the room and waked in unison towards Jack. They had an extremely imposing image and Jack tried to move away from them. But was already in a corner. One reached into a pocket and extracted a rather large syringe filled with a blue liquid while the other two reached out to hold down Jack. Try as he may have to struggle they pinned him down and he was injected with whatever it was the was in the syringe.

Immediately Jack felt an intense burning around where the injection had been. He felt this coursing through his veins, spreading first from his shoulder down to his finger-tips then up his shoulder and through his entire body. The three scientists had left and Jack lay on the ground, burning. Every beat of his heart increased the burning sensation and spread it to more and more of his body. His heart beat increased, spreading the fiery poison faster and faster.

Then, as quickly as it began, everything slowed down, as if in slow motion. He could hear his heart pounding in his head, he could feel the fire tingling all over him, he tried focusing on something in the room but the starkness of the place prevented him from doing so. Any sound he heard outside of his hammering heart beat, was slurred together into one continuous lull of sound. Everything gradually began to come back to normal, the pummeling clamor of his heart beat subsided, the lull of sound separated into individual voices and time began to progress at its normal pace. The fire he felt all over him remained, though. As the other sensations decreased the burning became more and more intense. It progressed to the point as though it felt to Jack that he had been cast into the fiery pits of Hell itself.

Suddenly Jack sprang up, jumping back to consciousness. His sudden leap of fright made him fall from his perch in the tree and come crashing down to the ground.

"Ow…" Jack said aloud to himself. "That was a nice wake-up call."

He got up, brushed himself off and walked out onto the road. It was moments before dawn, and the fire-red sun was peaking over the horizon. The sight reminded him of the sensational dream he had the night before and he felt a pang of pain at the remembrance. He looked down the road to his right, and at the endless stretch of highway, and then the other way to his left at the looming sight of Raccoon City. He then felt a slight breeze in the direction of Raccoon City. It seemed as if some unseen force was pulling him there, drawing him towards the ominous city. He felt the holster that was around his shoulders and remembered all that had happened the previous day. He reached for the gun in the holster, as he touched it he was repulsed by it. He knew why he had been given it, and it made him sick. He wasn't a person, he was a tool, a puppet whose strings were being pulled by the Umbrella Corporation.

"AAGGGHHHH!!!!" Jack threw his hands towards the red sky that was being created above him by the dawn. He pulled the gun out of the holster, cocked it, chambering a 9mm into the Beretta M92FS pistol and stood looking at it. He spun it around his index finger once, thrust his hand forward so his fingers were between the inside of the grip and the bottom of the barrel, then slid it into the holster. He hadn't even realized it, but he had put the katana into its sheath then attached it around his waist before he had run away. He now took it out, the blade was still stained with the blood from the day before. He slid it back into its sheath and turned to face Raccoon City. He was ready, with gun and sword, to take on the Umbrella Corporation.


End file.
